


Gotta Love the Kids

by Monkeygirl77



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angels make bratty children, Azazel is a fallen angel, Chuck is So Done, Everyone is grounded, Gabriel had one job to do, God is Parental, God is a good daddy, God loves his kids, HARD, Tags Are Hard, but their all brats, cant tell whether to be worried or amused, chuck rewrote what actually happened, he also consumes lots of alcohol, he can't even deal, he lets the Angels get away with more then he should, he loves his children, in the ass, it always comes back to bite him, nobody talks about the 1600s, reminds himself everyday
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-04
Updated: 2016-11-28
Packaged: 2018-08-19 13:32:10
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 9,249
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8210348
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Monkeygirl77/pseuds/Monkeygirl77
Summary: Where do Angels, fallen or not, go when they die? The go to daddy of course! Just because he hasn't been around does not mean he has not been keeping tabs. Chuck loves his kids, every single one, but they can be a trying bunch.





	1. Azazel

  
One moment he's a dead man in the middle of the a graveyard. There's a bullet in his chest from the one and only gun that can actually kill him that leaves somewhat of an annoying throb more than anything else and he's been scattered to the vast emptiness of space.

The next moment he's standing in a dim lit room in a form he hadn't actually been in a very long time. He can feel the extension of sings on his back that he hasn't had the pleasure of feeling in so long that it almost makes him want to find a mirror and stare at himself for as long as he desires. But instead he looks around him taking in the surroundings just to be on the safe side should something come up.

He is many things but unprepared is not one of them.

There is a worn couch behind him a few paces that looks well used.

A few side tables that are littered with papers and mugs.

Beyond the couch and to the right is a small hallway in which he can vaguely make out the small kitchenette at the end. Most likely a fridge and a stove with a microwave because everyone has one of those these days.

In front of the couch to his left is a good sized television that had two glasses set on top of the large box shaped electronic that smell of alcoholic residue.

There's a stair case that undoubtedly leads to an upstairs that probably has a bathroom as he notes the lack of one down here and a bedroom or two.

An unused fireplace on the other wall has pictures that he swears he has see before sitting on the mantle of people he swears he knows but cannot place names to.

Smiling to himself at feeling much more alive then he should for being a dead man he knows that he's prepared for anything despite making everything up as he goes.

"Azazel. Enter."

Its the voice though that has him catching his breath and spinning to look at the room before him.

An office or study would be an apt description for what it is. In the middle of the room clearly serving as its center piece is a large cherry desk that he knows is not out for purchase in any store he knows of. There is a white old school computer on the one side and a bunch of papers scattered across the forefront of it hiding anything that might be the actual desk under a blanket of white and black.

A leather bound chair is turned away from him and he tries to peer over the top of it to see whom is calling his name in such a way.

Who knows him to call his name in such a way.

"You are not a child so do not make me count as if you are one. I said enter."

He moves but only because he wants to and he is curious. Hands deep in his pockets he takes on the air of nonchalant as he steps forward eyes spanning the room as he does. More pictures of people he knows but doesn't remember the names to (is that him on the far left?) and little nic-nacs cover pretty much every open space there is.

Are those lightning rods in the back opposite corners parading as hat racks?

"So are we gonna play a game of guess who? Or are you going to face me? Because I'm curious, and though curiosity killed the cat, I happen to have more then nine lives."

The chair turns around to reveal a scruffy looking man holding open a file folder with his name on it like its some sort of book to read. Although he doesn't look very threatening sporting a bathrobe there's something about the man that sets him off balance for a moment. But in merely takes him a moment to collect himself once more.

"Well champ I don't remember ever meeting you and you look a bit old to be one of my investments so color me yellow and call me curious!"

He sets the folder down gingerly on the desk leaving it open to page he had been reading.

"I go by Chuck nowadays, but I have many many names. Some I approve and others I don't. But I would think you would recognize me son. Why don't you pull up a seat? We have much to talk about."

Almost as if by some switch he knows who the man is and he takes a moment to glare and scowl before smiling. His eyes flash a bright yellow as he hooks a finger over his shoulder.

"Well old man as it seems to be I do have plans. While I'm sure catching up on the good times would have been fun I think I'm gonna scram! Send you a post card?"

He's turning before he even gets a face to face reply. The doors slam shut in front of his face just as he makes it to the edge of the room. Something in the air snaps in tension and he visibly has to refrain from shivering.

"Do not turn your back on me when I speaking to you. Do I make myself clear? In your position you are in no place for such disrespect."

Although his voice is deceivingly calm he is not dumb enough to miss the vast threat within every word. Begrudgingly he clenches his fists before cooling his temper and sashaying back around. Grinning a prize winning smile at the man he had once claimed as Father. His eyes are hard and swirling behind the cool iris's Azazel can see unbending wrath flowing.

"Do I make myself clear?"

Reluctantly the demon nods, "Yes."

"Yes _what_? Stand straight and face me."

He turns on order straightening his back up like a well groomed soldier does on command. The eyes looking back at him are piercing.

"Yes Sir."

A nod for his proper response and a finger pointing at the seat in front of the desk.

"Now sit."

He does as he's told and briefly wonders if he's doing so out of his own will or out of an order to do so. There is no answer to his internal question offered forth so he is left to assume it is a bit of both. Fingers drum along the arm rests of the leather wrapped chair as Chuck stares ahead at his son. Azazel smiles in kind.

"So is that file my detention record because I can make no promises about its accuracy in the mid 1600s. That is still blurry for me now."

For his troubles he gets a ghost of a smile on the mans features before him and he takes it as a winning lotto ticket. Chuck sighs as he leans back in his chair and drums his fingers now on his stomach.

"Azazel. I honestly don't know what to do at this point."

"Meaning?"

"Silence boy. Meaning that I would have thought you would have learned after your first grounding. Considering you were still meant to be continued punished and I allowed you to do as you wanted I thought that maybe you would have grown a bit more however now I see I was wrong. You have always been been on of my most troublesome kids among your flight group and I can only blame myself for not spanking you more as a fledgling."

He goes silent for a moment and Azazel takes the moment to jump in for himself to simply test his waters.

"If your talking about those special children, Dad, come on! I didn't mean anything by it! It's all fun and games until someone's feelings get hurt so I am sorry.."

Chuck raised an eyebrow at him and crossed his arms.

"Azazel heed my warning now before you do something that will not benefit you in the slightest. In this file I have everything you have been up to in the last-well since you've been created-and yes that includes the 1600s but we will not even begin to divulge into that mess. You killed Mary Winchester even after I explicitly said she was not to be touched, fed Sam your blood which is beyond disgusting, you took control of their father when that was the only parent they had left for them and while he was not the greatest he was still something, honestly this goes on and on! You have made your way around and have been very busy!"

He shook his head, "Mary was just a bit of bad luck! Wrong place wrong time!"

"She is dead Azazel! I leave you and yours to your own with one order, do not interfere with events to come! Last time I checked feeding an infant your blood and killing his mother is interference!"

Azazel shrugged, "Water under the bridge though? Right? I mean those boys turned out alright! Wouldn't call them okay, not even good, but they're alright!"

Chuck shook his head in exasperation that could have held a touch of fondness under it as well but there was no one looking close enough. The fallen grinned at him brightly.

"Azazel...You are..."

He flipped through pages among pages shaking his head as he did so. Curiosity killed the cat though as the demon leaned forward to peer into his own file. Leave it to dad to up and leave the carnival but still have records on all the participants.

"First with your stunts as a Grigori which is another thing we won't get into."

He shrugged; all he had was good memories.

"Then you kill all those people and contact your brother when you know he was grounded to his room for what he had done!"

Another page.

"Planning on leading a demon army to fight alongside the Apocalypse that is not meant to be happening but heck I'll see where it goes from here."

More pages.

"Honestly some of the things you've gotten into fluster me to the point that I don't know whether to be worried about it or amused by it!"

"Dad there is so much you don't even know!"

That turned the table. Chuck looked up quickly his eyes blazing. Azazel grinned but there was no humor behind it. Maybe he should have kept it together.

"Humor me then son! We are going to have lots of time to spend together from here on out! Tell me what it is that you think I should know!"

"I do have plans though-"

"Oh yes and those plans include all that follows; You will give me your sword, not your blade Azazel, but your sword as a Grigori. You will release your ties to the demons and your special children and return their souls to me. In fact all the souls in your possession I want them back. Your arsenal of weapons you travel with will be given over. You will return to your room where you will stay until further notice. The only reason you will step a single foot outside of that door is to run errands for me or to freshen up. There will be no talking to the outside world, no use of your powers, no alcohol, no communications-if you get bored we can always talk son there is much to catch up on-no tricks, no summoning, no leaving unless I tell you so, and no weapons."

Chuck smiled at him this time with a bright grin of his own that just goes to show that certain traits can be passed down from parent to child. He raised a hand and waved his fingers. However, Azazel was too awestruck to move at the moment as he simply sat there mouth agape staring at his father in trepidation.

That was-UNFAIR!

He's not a saint and he won't act like one nor say he is but that's a bit much.

"Azazel we can do this the easy way or the hard way; Souls and Weapons. Now."

Reluctantly he threw himself up from his seat and leaned over the table throwing his hand out to meet his fathers in the middle pouting because of the unfairness. Chuck merely raised an eyebrow but made no move to comment as a light began to glow in the midst of their hands. Orbs traveled from the fallen 'grounded' angel's palm into the hand of the Father.

More then he had thought there would be, clearly.

" _Azazel!"_

Reaching for assorted places on his body he pulled an array of weapons free.

An M22, and an M23.

12 grenades.

6 throwing knives.

4 short blades.

7 ninja stars.

2 unused cartridges of machine gun bullets.

An angel blade.

And an angel dagger.

Chuck raised an eyebrow at the pile of growing weapons on his desk. Not even he had thought that there would be this much-where did he hide it all?

"Sword Azazel."

And last but not least one Grigori Sword. Taking it all in for a moment at all the fun toys he had just lost Azazel pouted petulantly. Chuck swept them into a box that he placed on a cabinet next to his desk.

"You will get these back when you are ungrounded."

"How long?"

Chuck gave him that look that all parents seem to have in their own arsenals.

"When I have decided its been long enough! Go to your room."

He didn't get much of a choice in the matter as his father waved a hand at him sending him along anyway. Chuck closed the file with a shake of his head and opened the filing cabinet next to him to put it away.

For all of their sakes they would just leave the topic of the 1600s alone.

**So! Just a new thing I'm doing!**

**Where do angels, fallen or not, go when they die? They go to their dad's house of course! Chuck may have left heaven but that does not mean he hasn't been keeping tabs on the Angels.**

**So who should be next? Anyone at all!**


	2. The 'Pagan' Messenger

 

There's something strange about dying, especially by the hand of someone whom you had only ever trusted. Honestly he had not walked in that fight with a breath on the wind of winning but there was still hope to be had.  

Besides at this point there was nothing left to lose in his opinion.  

Might as well go out with a bang right?  

He rubbed at his chest absentmindedly as if feeling for the hole that he was sure to be there and was admittedly shocked when he felt no such dent in his body. He was whole in every meaning of the word.  

That gave him the time to look around at the strange place he had been transported to. No one knew where angels went when they died, not even the Archangels knew that detail, it was not to say that he hoped that Dad had thought that far ahead but then again.  

Stellar job with his kids so far, right?  

He doesn't let himself expect too much at this point.  

Eyes flit around the room looking for anything that he might recognize. They stand still on a picture hanging on the wall of a boy with longer hair but the same color as his own riding on the back of some sort of giant animal that the humans might call mythological.  

Unicorns.  

Best creations ever.  

It was the second picture that had his attention though; same kid in this one but this time he was sprawled out in a giant mud puddle with the beautiful beast looking suspiciously smug about something.  

No one had that picture.  

No one save his Father and he guessed Michael may have a copy somewhere in that back room to his office that he doesn't allow anyone else to enter.  

He lets his eyes move around even more trying to place his position in the world.  

A muddy pair of boots at the door.  

Some jackets hanging on a few hooks by the door.  

There was a stack of dirty dishes in the sink and a herd of used mugs on the counter next to it in the small kitchen down the hall in the other end of the room.  

An old worn couch stood center in the room in the right corner was a glass case of random objects most of which were not of this world.  

A large television was in front of the couch with a connecting media center. Cans of pop and empty food containers were on the cabinet housing the TV.  

There was  staircase that lead to the upper levels of the House that he felt was probably way bigger on the inside then it looked like it was on the out. A gentle creaking in the ceiling above him made his head snap upwards to look as if he expected something to come through it. 

Turning back around he gazed up at the cracked double doors of the study he had appeared in front of.  

"Enter Gabriel." 

His eyebrows met in confusion.  

Moving forward he pushed a door open with a single hand and peered inside.  

It was just as he thought it was; The Study. A large wooden desk was the center point of the room with everything else arranged around it. A few lamps were on illuminating the various sheets of paper scattered over the top of the great desk leaving no piece uncovered by it.  

More pictures scattered around the wall and a few groups shots were framed on the desk.  

"Sit." 

"Now I'm not one to take orders from people I don't know." 

The person demanding actions from him was seated in the large leather bound chair facing the other way. He could vaguely make out the top of a head of messy curls and a opened file folder being read like a book by the other in front of him.  

"You are in no position for that type of tone. I told you to sit so do so." 

Gabriel found himself moving but not on his own accord. It was as if his legs had been told to do something and they were following their command to the 'T'. He pulled the chair out in front of the desk and took a seat as requested (read: ordered). 

But he tried to make it seem as if he had done it because he wanted to and not because this unknown man had ordered him to.  

It didn't work in his favor but he chose to ignore that too.  

"This seat is pretty comfortable so I think I'll stay a while!" 

There was a snort before the chair turned around to reveal the unknown figure behind this entire thing.  

Gabriel's eyes went wide.  

" _Dad_?" 

Chuck heaved a sigh and scrubbed a hand down his face. Azazel had done some pretty outlandish things but he was no where near as creative as Gabriel was when he applied himself to his cause.  

"Gabriel, now as the youngest of your brothers I allowed you to get away with a lot of mischief so your behavior is something I can only blame on myself. But this, _this,_ this is even pushing my boundaries." 

Gabriel leaned back in his chair and grinned despite the stern look on the others face.  

"Dad! Archangel of Justice? I'm just doing my you-given job! And adding some things to make it amusing for myself." 

"You gave a man _Koro_ Gabriel, _Koro_. Please tell me where any sort of 'justice' is being given in that?" 

The trickster Archangel frowned slightly. While he had seen the humor in it is was clear as day, that dad was decidedly not seeing the same humor he had been seeing at the time and many weeks after the fact was a very bad thing.  

"Oh ho, and there's more! You see this file I have here? This is of all your actions in the passed decade or so. You know, your one of the little few I actually had to start a new file for? And then I get a phone call from Odin! Gabriel, I was more than fine with you going around and playing with his son but there has to be a line drawn! It did not bother me when you went to join those pagains but when you had the audacity to call yourself a _god_!" 

He threw the file down open still on the desk in front of him and leaned forward on his elbows. Lightning cracked agaisnt the starry night without a single cloud in the sky to produce any sort of weather. Yep, being a son of a God who's only real rule that he actually enforced was _'You shall have no other gods before Me'_ (They had been sure to include that in the 'What to do to _Not_ piss off the Old Man' book of guidelines to a happy, successful life--More commonly known as The Bible).  

"That's not even the tip of the iceburg with you though is it? Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t throw you over my desk and spank you until your butt is a nice rosey firetruck red and the sting haunts your actions for the next decade to come!" 

"Come on! Teenage rebellion? Finding my own path? Escaping the never ending torment that was my older brothers and their need to constantly rip each others throats out! Take your pick and we can set up another get together in the future and I can be on my way!"  

Chuck stared at the Archangel before him hard, his first, one of his first. If he were to have any true children other than Jesus (he's just happy that he got that kid off the planet before he hit his teenage years---may have _moved on_ as an adult but in Enochian time he was still merely a child---He briefly wonders in this same moment how everything would have played out of Jesus had given him a big 'N.O!' When he had been told about the plan as to what was going to happen to him) it would probably be the Archangels.   

"I will warn you once about your tone Gabriel. Do not use such disrespect when addressing me again, do you understand me?"  

They stared at each other for a long time challenging the others resolve. It was never a good idea to challenge God so when Gabriel looked away first it was not surprising in the slightest.   

"Yes..."  

"Yes what? Speak clearly."  

"Yes Sir."  

Chuck nodded sitting back in his chair again and rubbing the bridge of his nose with his hand in a very human like gesture. Gabriel watched him closely.   

He was many things but unobservant was not one of them.  

"Sorry?"  

Even he knew it was pathetic. His Dad shared the same sentiment if one was judging such things by the look he had just received in return.   

"Look I promise never to do it again, you yelled at me, I pretended to shit my pants in fear of your wrath, we're good so let's call it a day? Why keep kicking the cow?" 

Why couldn't he keep his mouth shut? It always managed get him into more trouble then it was worth sometimes. Chuck looked at him during a long pause and promptly pushed his chair back making to stand up. Gabriel's eyes widened in alarm as he too backed his seat up to match his father's movements.  

"What did I _just_ say!" 

"Dad! No! Dad! I'm sorry! I'll keep it down! I'm sorry!" 

Now he knew his dad was not the easy type when it came to parenting (Spare the rod spoil the child came from somewhere people----You think Luci had been crying so hard in that lonesome little cage because it hurt when he crashed landed? Yeah, no.) but it did help their cause when they could gain that kicked puppy look and knew how to trip that 'Unconditional Love' thing that he always had going on.  

"See that you do Gabriel. I will not warn you again." 

He nodded savoring the in the knowledge that he would be able to sit comfortably for another day to come. Chuck instead sighed as he gazed down at the open file before him.  

"Gabriel, Gabriel, Gabriel...I knew you would be nothing but trouble!" 

He flipped a page.  

"Just Desserts is a nice title considering your endeavors afterwards, wouldn't you agree? This is simply an abuse of your power Gabriel." 

Another page flipped.  

"And messing with the Winchesters? Honestly how many times have I told you guys that they were off limits! You trapped them in your own alternate dimension? You killed Dean Winchester over 50 times! Nearly drove his brother crazy! Egging on your older brothers! _Gabriel!_ " 

"Dad come on! A different way everytime and that douche nozzle deserved every single second!" 

Chuck glared at him sternly and the Archangel lost the grin that had crossed his face and wisely pressed his lips together.  

He turned another page.  

"Gabriel this is something I would expect from a fledgling! Are you a fledgling? Do I need to pull out the training pads for flight and the pull-ups and such? Because fledglings need such things." 

He watched his son go a crimson red in the face and shake his head looking down at his lap.  

"Now I understand that your cause for running away was a just one and while I do not particularly care for the fact that you hide yourself from _Me_ it is something I can overlook." 

He waved his hand as if waving it away.  

"But this... Gluttony...Lust...Messing with the two people whom I specifically said were to be left alone..That is something I cannot overlook. And I won't even start on the whole 'calling yourself a _god_ ' thing." 

Chuck closed the large bulging folder and set it in the center of his desk as he crossed his arms and leaned back once more.  

"Gabriel you are grounded until further notice. No Powers, No snapping, no girls, and no candy." 

"But Dad--" 

"I am not finished. You wish to act like a spoiled fledgling then you will be treated as such, you will have a bedtime at nine o'clock. No snacks. No late night fridge raids. Straight to bed." 

Gabriel admittedly whined, " _How loooong!_ " 

Chuck glowered at him, "Until I say otherwise, little boy." 

He chose to ignore the groan released from his statement.  

"We have dinner together at Seven Sharp, if you know what's good for you then you won't be late--" 

"We?" 

"You were not the first Gabriel." 

He raised his eyes upwards to where the creaking in the ceiling had been heard.  

"Come down here." 

In a flash another appeared in the room. Gabriel stared at the fallen and the fallen stared right back. Chuck watched them both carefully.  

"Azazel." 

"Gabriel." 

There was a bout of silence that Chuck claimed as his own within a second.  

"Now that you two have seen each other you will both return to your rooms. If I so much as hear a peep from either of you it will be on your heads." 

They both nodded knowing not to push their father when he was like this and he sent them both on their way with a flick of his hand. The ceiling creaked above him rather loudly.  

"DO NOT MAKE ME COME UP THERE!" 

Only those two would take it upon themselves to challenge him only a moment after the fact. He sighed as he reached over and put the file away.  

There was another coming and he had a good feeling as to who it was going to be.  

* * *

 

  **LOL! So** **Gabriel and Azazel in one place together! Is Chuck punishing them, or himself? What sort of trouble can those two get up to? If they can get along that is! Poor Gabe!**  

**So who's next? Balthazar? Anna? Samandriel? Anyone who I did not mention because there is soooo many of them??**  


	3. This is a surprise!

  

It was a welcoming sight that when he opened his eyes to look around it was not the sterile white walls of his sister workroom that greeted him. There was no metal chair, in it's place was a couch. No tools and buzzing drills. No straps and mouth guard.  

No pain and no fear.  

Only curiosity.  

He had never been in this room before and everything looked so interesting.  

It made him want to look around and see everything. Touch everything and feel it.  

Admittedly he did in fact scream when hands grabbed him under the arms and lifted him from the floor. Something soft rubbed against his legs as he was pulled into someones arms and rested on their hip.  

"Well I can honestly say that seeing you was an unexpected but welcome surprise." 

He had never had the opportunity to meet the man behind the voice but it was exactly as others had said it was like. Chuck smiled at the small fledgling turning on his heel and walking back up the stairs.  

He passed Anna's room and Gabriel's. There was movement in Azazel's but so long as he wasn't causing trouble then he'd let it go (meaning it would definitely be something he investigated the following day) the lightweight of the young boy on his hip was not something that he had bared in a long time but it was something that he was finding he missed more than he thought he would.  

"Your still a bit young to actually have anything to be upset with you over, despite the fact that you left Heaven when you know that it is not permitted until you are old enough to wield a blade on your own but that is something we can look passed." 

Chuck jiggled his arm a bit and shot the fledgling a grin as he reached out for the door handle of the master bedroom.  

"But have no fear little Samandriel. When Michael was your age there was little I could do to keep him in one place. Despite what he might try to tell you he was the first leash child." 

The little boy looked up at him in surprise, "You know my name?" 

Chuck raised an eyebrow at him and halted in his movements.  

"Of course I know your name! I know the names of every single one of your brothers and sisters." 

Samandriel looked down shyly feeling bad about thinking such things about his father. His chest rumbled as the man chuckled under his breath. 

"Don't think that just because I never met you that I do not know you." 

It was Chuck's turn to feel bad though. Before everything had.....happened......He used to make it a point to visit the fledglings. He'd play with them and tell them stories. In fact the first few batches He'd raised personally. Once someone gets that feeling of raising a child it just doesn't go away.  

"Perhaps I should be in trouble instead. I should have visited you and I hadn't and for that I am sorry." 

Samandriel let out a sound as he was pressed to his Father's chest and the man fell backwards onto his bed.  

"I see us spending lots of time together in the near future though." 

The fledgling wasn't really sure how to respond to that and so he simply stuck to silence. Chuck leaned back into his pillows lightly finally getting a good look at the little one in his lap. He frowned when he noticed the little blood beads on his temple and adjusted his grip to look closer.  

"What are those?" 

Samandriel took a breath as a hand brushed his hair back gently. He watched as his dad's eyebrows met in concern as he dabbed at one of the beads gently with the tip of his finger. It healed instantly but did nothing to stall is growing curiosity. He looked down at the small angel again with the same question on his lips.  

"Samandriel?" 

He bit his lip in fear at being reprimanded for something he had no control over. Chuck's lips evened out into a thin line as he watched the young angel waiting patiently until he knew the other would break. Eventually Samandriel dropped his gaze and licked his little lips.  

"Th..They're from.." 

"From what?" 

"Naomi." 

Chuck's eyes blazed in anger for a mere moment but quickly toned down as he did not want to frighten the child next to him.  

"Has your sister been experimenting again? Honestly, I've told her once, I've told her a thousand times!" 

He ran a finger over each hole and they healed away instantly at the touch.  

"Well I'll just have to have a word with that one and you, _you_ will get the chance to be the fledgling you were meant to be the first time around. Pancakes in the morning? I know Gabriel would enjoy that." 

 


	4. You did what because of Celine Dion?

The first thing he did when appearing within the home was reach down at the hole that should be going straight through his abdomin that would be left from where that little twat Castiel stabbed him in the back.  

Had it not been quite so literally true he would have laughed at it.  

Sighing harshly the blonde turned their attention around to peer around the room. The sound of soft footfalls running down the hall behind them had them turning again. A little boy with blonde hair came running right passed them and into an office they had not seen before.  

Someone yelled from down the hall and was instantly silenced.  

"Come in." 

They eyeballed the doorway sceptically before stepping in the door and walking inside.  

A desk was standing right before them when they entered littered with child drawn pictures and coloring untinsils. The chair behind it was facing the other direction but he could see the top of a man's head and he knew that it was someone he recognized.  

He stood somewhat awkwardly.  

After a moment the chair turned to reveal a man with curly hair and a trimmed beard. There was something about the man he recognized but he couldn't quite place his finger on it. The kid who had ran passed him sat on the man's right leg smiling happily.  

"Alfie why don't you go play with your brothers?" 

The fledgling shook his head latching onto one of the man's hands.  

"But I wanna stay with you." 

He watched as the man stared into the boys eyes and slowly but surely lost the near silent competition between the two of them. Conceding to the boy he wrapped a hand around his belly and pulled him further into his side.  

"Very well. Balthazar why don’t you take a seat?" 

That startled him. How did this man--" 

"I would think I would recognize my own son." 

He fell back into the seat that he had hoped was behind him. Eyes wide and mouth slack Balthazar stared at the man claiming to be his father. 

"Dad?" 

The other nodded their head and reached for a file sitting on the desk in front of them.  

"Want to tell me what your grand reason was for changing the course of history in unsinking the Titanic?" 

Balthazar opened his mouth to reply, thought better of it, and then shrugged.  

"Have you heard that you-aweful Celine Dion song? Why wouldn't you do anything in your power to be rid of that?" 

Chuck stared at the british angel for a long while trying to wrap his head around what he was hearing.  

"Let me see if I get this straight. You unsank the Titanic, something that you knew would change the flow of time after I have told you time and time again to leave be, because you did not like a song made for it?" 

Balthazar nodded silently, "Of course!" 

"And you couldn’t just, I don't know, avoid the song?" 

"Well where's the fun in that?" 

"And what of the weapons you took? I know that you have Lucifer's Staff of Light and Michael's other sword. Raphael's bow and quiver and Gabriel's horn. Castiel's daggers. What of those?" 

Yep he really had nothing for that one. He was honestly just taking advantage of the crisis that had unfolded in Heaven. He really hadn't needed all those weapons. Chuck was watching him waiting for an answer but the stern look he was trying to maintain was being negated by the fledgling sitting on his lap moving his fingers this way and that.  

Sighing the man closed the file on his desk and looked down at the small fledgling in his lap moving his fingers as the boy opened his hand and laid his small hand on top of his palm closing his hand around the small hand. The little angel giggled softly.  

"Balthazar I am going to be straight with you. I can tell you what sort of excitement your going to be having in the next few....Oh let's say years....You are going to return all the weapons you took from the Armory. And then you will go and retrieve Virgil from the alternate dimension you trapped him in. " 

Chuck looked up from the fledgling in his lap. 

"Then you fix what it is you have changed. Fate had a fit when you pulled that stunt and I'm putting my foot down. And considering I cannot trust you to not act like you are a fledgling then I'll cut out the middle man and treat you as one. You will return here when you have completed your given tasks and you will stay under my roof until I tell you otherwise." 

He stood from his seat pulling the fledgling up onto his hip as he did. Walking around the side of his desk Chuck motioned for him to come forward. Balthazar looked around for anyone who might see what was about to happen. He was out of his seat in the next moment meeting his Father half way.  

The fledgling made a noise of annoyance as he was smooshed between the two of them and reached out to push at the other. Chuck shook his head fondly looking over at the small fledgling as he released his other son from an embrace.  

"Samandriel I am allowed to hug the others, not just you, little one." 


	5. Suicide Bombers are frowned upon

He rubs at his chest in surprise as he arrives sitting in an empty chair at a table set for five. He looked confused at the food that appears on the table and the achingly familiar voice calling out for others to come to the table for meal time.  

Feet come running down the stairs and a squeal from the hall alerts him to the presence of others.  

A shadow crests the doorway and he looks over in alarm.  

"Oren?" 

Gasping he shoots from the seat he appeared seated in taking a few steps backwards in shock. He'd felt it when _he'd_ been killed. Everyone had felt it! After it was not everyday an _Archangel_ killed an _Archangel._ Yellow eyes shined from behind the shoulder of the fledgling on the Archangel's back and a red head peeked out from the other side in curiosity.  

Fear made him stumble back into another's body behind him. There was a stumbling sound and he turned quickly to see a familiar man stumbling to keep the piled eggs together on the plate he held up in his left hand.  

"Woah kiddo! Careful!" 

His eyes widen at the voice. He hadn't heard that voice since he had been a small toddling fledgling hanging onto his brothers robes and hands. He'd been especially playful with Raphael. His position in Heaven had been that of a doctor so it comes to no surprise how close he had been to The Healer growing up.  

There were few that had known how the Archangel really was. On the outside to the public view he was tough and war-hardened. A force to reckon with just as any Archangel would be. But in private, behind closed doors, Raphael was the kindest angel he had ever met. He'd let the healer fledglings play train; wrapping bandages around his arms and head. He'd sweep the little ones up playfully and throw them above his head until they shrieked with frightful laughter.  

A hand on his shoulder pulled him from his memories and he looked up nervously.  

"Gabriel, take the eggs and put them on the table please. Oren and I will grab what's left in the kitchen." 

His tone left no room for argument as he motioned for the other to follow as he turned. Oren had no choice in the matter as his legs moved on their own towards the kitchen.  

Stepping inside he feels someone walk up behind him.  

"You need a haircut." 

Someone's running their fingers through his hair and he licks his lips nervously.  

"Fa..Father?" 

A hum comes from behind and fingers leave his hair be as the man behind him walks around to look him in the eyes.  

"Now normally I would greet you in the office but seeing as you showed up right at breakfast and I can't seem to remember you doing anything worthy of truly being punished for---if we chose to ignore the fact that you _killed yourself--_ then I think we can both come to the agreement that we can let it all go, you can be grounded for—oh lets say a few months—for scaring me like you had. Deal? Deal." 

Before he can get a word in a plate is pushed into his hands.  

"Welcome home son." 

Chuck turns to pick up the plate of toast on the counter fully expecting his son to have already left for the table, however as he turns he sees that Oren is exactly where he had left him and so he sighs.  

"What's wrong?" 

"Where are we Father? Where did you go? Where did I go?" 

Chuck wraps an arm around the angel's shoulders as he turns them in the direction of the dining room.  

"Questions? That's fine I got answers. Okay; We are in my house, I came down to Earth, and You came back to me." 

Oren nodded taking the information in as best as he could without disrupting the flow of things that had been set up around him. Chuck set him up in a chair on his left, across from Gabriel, and set a plate down in front of him. The others watched him silently but he only had eyes for his father. Chuck met his gaze and ducked down to whisper to him personally.  

"It's alright. You're home where you belong." 


	6. Hands of Mercy are fine, I guess?

He gave death to those who wanted it, quick and painlessly, it was his passion and his job. But he did not have the same honor to say such things about his death.  

Even if it was his last thing he ever did, he would ensure Castiel got what he deserved. All he was doing was trying to help and he gets killed for it! Where is the justice in that? 

Breathing in harshly as his senses came back to him, he looked down at his stomach searching for the stab wound he knew to be there. When he did not see any blood gathering on his shirt he felt for the wound instead.  

"You're fine Ephraim." 

The voice startled him, and for the first time since he arrived in this new place he looked around. His gaze traveled over all the random knick-knacks and pictures---was that him in the one on the left? 

"It is indeed you, you were an adorable fledgling, always hanging onto your older brother's leg everywhere he walked." 

Ephraim remembered that. He remembered how Raphael used to be, before he lost everything, he had always been reserved and quiet but when he was alone with his students he was like a completely different angel.  

He could remember times when he would play with them, he'd sweep them off their feet and into his large wings. He'd toss them into the air laughing along with them, let them wrap bandages around pretend wounds, sit them on his shoulders as he walked his rounds in the night hours, and read them stories as he put them to bed.  

He missed the older brother Raphael used to be. 

A hand patting his cheek draws him from his thoughts and he looks down at the man standing in front of him.  

"Come on back son. We have some things we need to talk about." 

He nods shyly and moves to the spot on the counter that is not taken up by the small fledgling. He knows Samandriel, they had hung out a few times in Heaven before....Before both of their demises. Leaning back on the counter crossing his arms over his chest he watches silently as his Father as he turns back to Alfie's scrapped knees.  

The little one whines at the slight burning when he dabs some hydrogen peroxide on it. Chuck looks up at his youngest son and hushs him softly.  

"Ephraim, you have always tried your best to do what was best for your siblings, and though you may have gone overboard on certain circumstances and I cannot fault you for that." 

He remained silent as his father put a bandage on both knees before reaching up and lifting his little kid brother down from the counter. Samandriel hugged Chuck's waist, he laid a hand on the boy's head ruffling the soft hair, before running off to undoubtedly get into more trouble.  

Chuck shook his head fondly at the boy as he scampered off before turning back to his just arrived son. Ephraim eye balled him nervously finding all thoughts of revenge on Castiel suddenly gone. He moved to stand before the angel motioning for him to sit up.  

"Come on, you keep messing with the area where the blade went in, so up you get, let me take a look." 

Ephraim moved back as his father gave him a look that told him that his statement was not of the question type so he scooted up to sit himself on the counter much like his young brother just had.  

"Back to what I was saying however, going after humans despite how distressed you feel they are is not only out of your job classification and an abuse of your power. What would Raphael say if he knew you were using his teachings for such things? Let alone attempting to use your special abilities on your own brother. That is not something I can so easily let go, you know right from wrong Ephraim and you know going after your brothers or sisters without them being so mortally wounded is wrong." 

A hand under his chin had him looking up once more, making eye contact with his father that he could not break despite his wanting to do so.  

"So that means you must be punished. Ephraim you are grounded until further notice. Confined to this house with restrictive use of your grace until I deem you responsible enough to use it freely once more. Do you understand?" 

Ephraim nodded silently and his Father smiled patting his cheek, "Good. Now let me see." 

Chuck motioned for the angel to lift his shirt and Ephraim did just that hoping to do anything he could to get back on his Father's good graces. Chuck bent down to look at the area his son's wound had been located and felt around waiting for any soft of reactions, good or bad.  

There was nothing that caught his attention that would be out of place but he poked around just to be sure.  

A smile crossed his features when his son squirmed under his hands. He looked upwards slyly and scratched at his son's belly for a moment or two enjoying the way he bit his lip and twisted around trying valiantly to repress the giggles that so wanted to break free. He get him to open up eventually, and they had plenty of time to get there, but he relented for now.  

"Just as I said it was. Your fine," Chuck moved back to allow his child to pull his shirt back down and hop from the counter before snaking an arm around his shoulders and leading him from the room, "Now, come, seeing as you'll be here for the near future you it would probably be best to alert the others." 

Ephraim turned to look at his Father in confusion; others?  

He chuckled, "You did not think you were the only one, did you? I'm sure Oren will be happy to see you again." 


	7. This is getting ridiculous!

Chuck was at his wits end.  

He stood in front of his desk, arms crossed, and tapping his foot. Honestly, where in his children's (questionable) right minds did they ever think it was okay to become _suicide bombers_?  

Now, Chuck knew the circumstances and everything that had been going on for them during such thoughts but they were not idiots.  

Although at this point even he was beginning to question that; perhaps they were in fact idtiots.  

There was a flash as he appeared in the room before him, looking around in surprise and confusion, Chuck cleared his throat gaining his son's attention.  

"Constantine, you and me, we are going to have a very long talk young man!" 

Constantine stumbled forward as fingers closed around his ear and pull him forward. He yelped at the tugging on his ear. Chuck marched him to a chair in his office, not caring which one it was, and sat him down into it forcibly by a grip on his shoulder.  

He looked up at his father nervously as he could feel the anger rolling from him in waves.  

Chuck reeled a hand back and let it fly.  

Constantine yelped again when a hand smacked him upside the head.  

"What in my _name_ were you thinking!"  

There was no answer that would appease his father at this point in time, and he didn't dare say anything that would anger him even more! He was not that dumb! So Constantine was left with the only option of attempting to look away in shame under his Father's heated glare and even that option was taken from him when a hand reached out and held his chin in place.  

"No, you will _look at me_ while we are talking." 

Constantine nodded as best he could and the hand was removed from his chin. Chuck backed up crossing his arms back over his chest angrily.  

"You want to tell me what was running through that mind of yours when you thought it was a good idea to _kill yourself_!" 

He shook his head apprehensively.  

"Not only did you _kill_ your brother Tyrus, you injured Gadreel, and attempted to kill Metatron!" 

Constantine knew it was a bad idea but hearing him say something in a semi-defense of Metatron made him find his voice. That angered him more than it should have.  

"He deserved it! My regret it not succeeding!" 

Chuck pursed his lips to refrain from giving his child a severe tongue lashing for such blatant disrespect. Constantine leaned back as a finger was thrust in his face and his father leaned in closer.  

"Do _not_ think that because you look like an adult that I will not think twice about throwing you over the side of this desk and give you a _spanking_ that you have never had before." 

Admittedly he was satisfied when his son gave a gulp and nodded quickly. Satisfied, Chuck stood back up and recrossed his arms. Now Constantine would be sure to watch his tone.  

He knew he was being harsh, minus that little blip, but this was not the first child of his that had gone all suicide bomber mindset on themselves and he did not have to be a happy camper about it.  

"What would your brother say?" 

Chuck knew how much Raphael's opinion meant to the ones he had (or once had) under his charge. He also knew that his son would not be particularly fond of the idea that his doctors were running around killing themselves, save for Flagstaff, and should Dean Winchester ever come face to face with Raphael after his son learns of his threat to his charge he knew he would personally have to intervene to ensure the hunter did not meet his demise (even if they all knew that Dean had not been in control of his actions at the time) and though Tessa was technically a Reaper she would hold the same standing in Raphael's grace as Flagstaff would.  

Constantine felt smaller then he's ever felt, even when he'd been a fledgling (and he'd been a runt of a fledgling too) and so he looked down and nodded.  

"I'm sorry father." 

Chuck sighed deeply feeling his anger draining away at the meek voice his son was using. Rubbing a hand down his face, he sighed again, this was why he could not stay this mad at his children for too long (this included Lucifer though he was a trying one) and it did him no favors that even when they messed up so massively that he still loved them so dearly.  

"Costa, look at me." 

It was a nickname he had not heard since he was a small runt running around getting into everything and anything. Constantine looked up at his father nervously.  

"While I am not happy concerning your current stream of poor choices, extremely displeased in fact, your still my son and believe it or not I am happy to see you." 

He felt his son's grace warm up at hearing such things.  

"Oh believe me when I say you are still most definitely in trouble, grounded in fact, for the near future and beyond, but I am glad to have you back." 

"Missed you dad." 

"I know. Come here." 

Constantine was out of his seat in the next moment throwing his arms around his Father. Chuck sighed bringing his own arms up to wrap around his child. He buried his face into his father's shoulder and inhaled deeply smiling to himself at the smell of creation and whiskey that always seemed to radiate from him all the time.  

"There there, come on now, when you do wrong you get punished for it and you know this Costa." 

He nodded into his father's shoulder, clutching at the back of his shirt.  

"Costa, seeing as you'll be home here for the foreseeable future, how about we go see your brothers? Oren and Ephraim will be ecstatic to see you." 

"You'll be there too, right?" 

"It is my house son, so yes, I see myself being there." 

Maybe they'd have a movie night and bring the family together for the night. Samandriel would love that, Gabriel would too (if anything because of the snacks they would have). Oren and Ephraim needed to get out of their rooms and hanging out in one anothers did not count no matter how much they said it did. Anna was similar to Samandriel in her reasoning.  

Oh yah, movie night sounds like a plan. 


End file.
